I clear my throat at the irony of the question. Of course, he is referring to the animal, but for a second, I think he’s referring to something else entirely. I force a smile and tap a finger on my chin. “If I were a fox, I would stick to the shadows, where I can watch my prey and potential hunters.”
He nods. “They are quite cunning like that. We need to find an area that’s perfect for hiding.”
Brushing aside a bush that blocks our path, it begins to rustle and birds come flying out. I duck my head until I realize they are only little red robins.
Iann, however, nearly knocks me into a tree in his panic.
Eli, releases a soft chuckle behind us that he smothers with a cough. “They are only robins, My Grace. Would you like me to scare them off?”
There is a quick flash of embarrassment, but Iann composes himself. “No, Eli. They startled me, that’s all.” He sucks in a sharp breath before putting his finger to his lips.
“Are you alright?” I take his hand without warning, causing him to flinch until he realizes I’m trying to help.
“It’s a minor splinter. I think I’ll survive.”
“I have no doubt.” From my pocket, I pull one of my many needles. “Do you mind? Removing it now will make it less painful for you later. Plus, I’ll never hear the end of it if you catch an infection.”
He chuckles and relaxes his hand. “Very well.”
It takes a little concentration and a few seconds to extract the sliver of wood.
“Do you always carry sewing needles with you?” It isn’t Iann who asks, but Eli. “Most people I know carry daggers or blades, not items intended for mending clothing.”
Iann cuts him a cautious look but it only makes me smile, because I am in fact carrying both.
“Always. You’d be surprised at the many talents a good needle and skilled seamstress possess.”
Eli finds humor in the answer.
“I overheard a few of the servants speak of spotting a fox near the creek this morning.” My needle finds its home back in my pocket and we return to the hunt.
“Might be worth a shot, Ia—Your Highness,” Eli seconds the idea.
It’s not a bad idea. I haven’t had much time to explore all of the castle grounds, but I do know of a spot near the creek that is a perfect hiding ground for creatures.
“This way,” I direct our small group.
I lead us through the forest where leaves are transforming from their greenish hues to an assortment of yellows and oranges. The air is losing its heat from months past and holds a cooler breeze. My lungs expand with the scent of oak and loose traces of cinnamon.
The hound stops a few feet in front of me, cocking his head to the left. He listens for a few seconds before his nose is back to the ground picking up new scents. He must hear the water in the creek because after a few moments I pick up on a trickling sound.
“Do you think we’ll find it?” I ask Iann, who quickens his pace until he matches my stride. “Or do you think the Queen is sending us on a wild chase?”
“You tell me.” He laughs. “She’s your queen. Would she send us on a hunt for something that doesn’t exist?”
My immediate thought is yes. I assume Queen Cayleen would get a thrill out of watching people fight to find something she knows is a myth.
“It’s hard to know with the Queen. She’s difficult to read at times.” I stop and question how much about her I should sharewith him. “It may exist, and if it does I feel our chances of finding one today might be slim.”
Iann shrugs. “That’s alright. It means our competition’s chances are slim as well. If anything, this can just be a mini-adventure.”
He’s so positive it’s hard to believe his outlook is genuine, but at this moment I do. Plus, who can resist an adventure, even if it’s within the Queen’s back gardens.
We follow the hound to the creek and watch him sniff the rocks along the bank. Iann doesn’t want to use the metal traps provided to all groups by the Queen, so we focus on a more gentle approach.
We search for hours along the creek, venturing the farthest north I’ve been on the castle grounds. The time fills itself with more talking, mostly how court in Haymel differs from Saden’s. Iann shares stories of his family. His grandmother in particular seems to be a feisty soul I would love to meet.
The hound stops, nostrils flaring near a medium sized boulder set between the creek and a row of trees.
